Something Worth Fighting for
by bigbill16
Summary: Vector and Espio find themselves on their most important case yet: investigating the death of their comrade, Charmy. However, things are not as they seem, as the death of their friend may be part of something much bigger.
1. No Time for Grieving

**Author's note: I blame this one on Detective Conan. I started watching the anime about a week ago, and it inspired me to write a Sonic detective fanfic. Just a head's up, I decided to give Station Square a corrupted-city atmosphere (think Gotham City) since I'm trying to convey a dark tone. The story will mostly, if not completely, be told in first person. The narrator will be indicated by the character name in bold at the beginning of each section. I do not own these characters... enjoy!**

Chapter 1 No Time for Grieving

**. . . Vector . . .**

I flinched again as I heard Espio thrust his throwing knife into the desk. I was beyond irritated by the constant thumping of the wood every five seconds, but I was in no mood to be yelling at anyone. The chameleon did this whenever something was on his mind or if he felt troubled. Needless to say, something big was definitely on his mind. Therefore I felt inclined to allow him to carry on with his stress-relieving activity, though I wasn't too thrilled about how he was destroying my desk.

Neither one of us spoke; neither one of us had to. There was nothing to be said about the current situation that we didn't already know or comprehend. We had unplugged the company phone in order to keep our peace from being penetrated. We didn't feel like having the phone ring every few minutes just to hear someone asking us to solve another case of murder or a missing child. We knew what our next case was going to be, and we weren't gonna let any other jobs get in the way.

Espio turned his head toward the door; his hearing allowed him to sense people approaching the door well before I could. It made the bell hanging over the door seem kind of pointless. Sure enough, the bell rang as the door swung open, revealing a drenched red echidna by the name of Knuckles.

"Vector, Espio," he said as he took off his soaked overcoat and hung it on the nearby coatrack. He swore as his badge fell from his coat pocket and landed on the floor. Lieutenant Knuckles was a very common guest at our office, so we had gotten used to seeing him nonchalantly walk in without any warning. Unless he asked us to do otherwise, we just referred to him informally as Knuckles. We had known each other for so long; I think he understood the difficulty in suddenly having to refer to him by a rank.

"Knuckles." The name escaped Espio and me simultaneously in the same melancholy tone. It was always good to see a friend on a gloomy day, especially today. However, the police officer's appearance wasn't always the cause for jubilation; it was actually quite the opposite. Knuckles usually came by when he was too stressed out from work, and usually had a depressing story or two to tell us regarding the day's casualties. At first, I thought it a bit inappropriate and rude to come by and spout the daily events of the hellhole city known as Station Square. It's not like we didn't already have our share of the city's trash on our hands. But as the visits continued, I slowly started to understand what was going on; Knuckles needed this. Every day he was knee-deep in the city's filth, trying to keep the citizens safe from the crime and corruption that had destroyed Station Square from the inside out. The guy needed an outlet; someone to talk to about the crazy shit he encountered every day on the job. I think he felt it was his only way of staying sane; the only way of keeping himself from being consumed by the rotten corruption of the city.

And it showed, too. I wasn't too familiar with the police force, but I could tell Knuckles was one of the only good cops on it. The same certainly couldn't be said for his weasel of a partner, Fang. It was almost laughable how deep he was entrenched in almost every drug deal. The only plausible explanation for how he was still on the force was that he was bribing the chief with the fruits of his drug trafficking. The echidna's trust was wasted on that low-life.

Without having to be asked, the echidna pulled a chair up to the desk and fell back in it, landing with a rough "thud." He breathed a heavy sigh as he took out a lighter and a packet of cigarettes. "You mind?" he asked, already with the cigarette in his mouth and the lighter open. I sure as hell didn't care, but I knew Espio wasn't crazy about the smell. I looked over at him and he simply gave me a look. Espio and I had now spent five years working together; that time allowed me to become an expert at interpreting his various looks. It was a look that said, "I don't want him to smoke, but I don't want to tell him no." Espio was often quite blunt when it came to talking, so I understood that he didn't want to come off as hostile.

"Hey, Knuckles, why don't you lay off the smokes for now? You've spent the whole day in that putrid city. Might as well take in the fresh air when you can get it, right?" He looked at me puzzled for a few seconds, and then caught my drift as I discreetly nodded towards Espio.

"Good idea," he nodded, closing the lighter and placing it under the desk. He plucked the cigarette from his teeth and placed it back in the box, which also made its way under the desk.

The three of us sat there in silence; everyone had the same thing on their mind, but no one wanted to be the first one to talk. I clumsily fiddled with my chain to add a little noise to the room. I was hoping Espio would return to his stabbing of the desk to help make this less comfortable, but he had stopped ever since Knuckles walked in. I looked over at the echidna, who knew perfectly well what we were waiting to hear. I figured he didn't want to walk in and just drop a bomb on us like that.

"So, Knuckles." I was embarrassed to hear my voice crack the way it did. I roughly coughed a couple times before trying again. "So, Knuckles, how have things been goin' off the job? You're always talking about your daily routine and what goes on during hours. Hope you're finding some time to relax or catch up with some familiar faces." I knew it was a silly question to ask, but it was the best I could come up with. We just needed something, anything, to kick off conversation; from there, we could gradually get down to business.

The look Knuckles gave me also suggested he thought it was a silly question, but he knew what I was trying to do. "Relax?" he asked while doing his usual practice of cracking his knuckles. "That word hasn't existed in my vocabulary in a long time. When I'm not on the job down here, I'm up on Angel Island protecting the Master Emerald."

Ah, the Master Emerald; I had almost forgotten about that giant green gem the echidna cared so much about. It was amazing thinking how much he had changed since I first met him. That emerald used to be the only thing he cared about; he protected it day and night and refused to let anything keep him away from it. Now, in terms of the echidna's priorities, it had taken a back seat to his job as a police officer. Knuckles would never admit it, but I truly think he was more worried about the safety of the civilians of Station Square than the safety of his emerald.

"You still get a ride from Tails to go up to your island, right? How's the little guy doing?"

Knuckles let out a long chuckle before straightening himself up again. "For starters, he wouldn't be too thrilled to hear you call him little. Being alone in the ruins has forced him to become more independent, whether he wanted to or not. I think we're actually starting to enjoy each other's company." He paused for a moment with a smile on his face; it was the first time in a long while I can remember him smiling. I figured him talking about the young fox growing up had aroused memories of when the two first met.

"He's a good kid," I said, putting my two cents into the conversation. "It's good he got out of this city when he did. Station Square is no place for innocent youths like him."

"Sonic and I would never allow anything to happen to him." He looked at me as if my comment had questioned his ability to protect the kid. I hadn't even thought about it in that context; I was just trying to keep up the small talk. However, Knuckles had a tendency to take things the wrong way. Luckily, this small show of anger didn't last, as he relaxed back into his chair and carried on. "But it was for the best that he moved out to the Mystic Ruins away from this city. Cream went with him, didn't she?"

Upon hearing that name I pushed my weight forward, sending the forelegs of my leaned-back chair towards the floor with a hard "thud." And I had been doing so well with pushing those memories out of my head.

It took Knuckles a few seconds to realize what he had said, but the damage had already been done. Images of her beautiful face were swimming around my mind; her gentle voice, calling my name.

"Vector, shit, I'm sorry." Knuckles was spilling out words, trying to connect them and make a sentence to recover from his blunder.

"It's alright," I interrupted, just to hear him stop hurting himself trying to apologize. I let out a deep sigh, trying to make the memories of her face stop spinning through my mind. "I know that's not the only bad news I'll be hearing today, so I might as well be in the right mental state to take it. Yes, to answer your question, Cream went with Tails to the Mystic Ruins as soon as she heard he was leaving. She had previously been staying at Amy's following the death of her mother, but she was waiting for any chance she got to leave."

Awkward silence once again infiltrated the room, and I noticed that Espio had gone back to stabbing the desk with his throwing knife. I had not expected conversation to drift over to the death of Vanilla; it was still a subject I tried to avoid at all costs. So I figured I'd try to get back to talking about Tails.

"But it's good to hear the young fox is doing alright. He's been by himself for what, almost a year now?"

Knuckles stared up at the dirty ceiling (Espio and I really should clean up around here) as he counted backwards in his head. "About eleven months, I think," he concluded, running the numbers through his head again. "I was impressed; I thought he'd be pretty down when Sonic left, but he took it rather well. Too well, almost."

I could see in the echidna's eyes that he was now thinking about his friendly rival, Sonic the Hedgehog. He unexpectedly left town six months ago and we hadn't heard from him since. No one knows where he went or why he left; all we know is that he's gone at a time where we need him most. Knuckles knew it too. Sure, he'd always put on a show of arguing and frustration whenever Sonic was around, but he knew the hedgehog was someone the city needed. He was a true hero; something that most people in Station Square forgot existed.

"What do you think he's doing right now, Vector?" I sure as hell hoped that was a rhetorical question, cause I probably knew as little about Sonic's whereabouts as he did. He looked at me with an open-minded sort of expression on his face. He knew I didn't have the answers; he just wanted to know what I thought about the whole situation.

"I just don't get it," he continued, turning his head so he was staring out the window. "Why would he leave us in a time like this? Things were already pretty bad around here; didn't he realize it was just gonna get worse once he left?"

These were questions that everyone had been constantly asking ever since Sonic left. "Knuckles," I started, trying to think of something that was accurate, but would also calm him down. "You've known him for longer than I have. You of all people should know that Sonic lives by his own agenda. We all look at it as him abandoning Station Square; he may see it in a whole different light. What he did may not make sense to us, but it made sense to him. Plus, you have to admit it's a bit unfair to chastise him for leaving when anyone in their right mind would want to get out of here."

Knuckles turned his head back towards me, and let out what felt like a nervous chuckle. "Then I guess the three of us aren't in our right minds, are we?" I smiled wryly in response to his comment; he seemed to say weird stuff like that every time he dropped by.

I almost fell over in my chair when I saw Espio suddenly stand up and forcefully stab the desk. "Have you guys reminisced enough, yet?" There was no mistaking the impatience in his voice. He was ready to hear the news the echidna had come to give; he had been ready since before he arrived. He was probably just being polite by allowing Knuckles and me to delay the conversation, but he was tired of waiting.

"I guess we should get to talking about Charmy, shouldn't we?" Knuckles looked at me as if waiting for me to give the okay to change topics. He stood up and started pacing around in a small circle; he tended to do this whenever he was reporting grim news.

"Just cut to the chase," said Espio in his usual blunt style. "Did you find him or not?"

It was like not wanting to know if you got the million dollar question right or not, in fear that you answered incorrectly. I wanted to just tune out the world and skip forward to a time where I already knew what happened to Charmy. Or maybe that was the worst part. I already knew what Knuckles was going to tell us before it even left his mouth.

"Yeah, we found him," said the echidna, reaching into one of the pockets of his trench coat. There was no happiness or excitement anywhere in his voice, and therefore Espio and I showed no signs of happiness either. He dug out a file and threw it on the desk, blandly adding, "But I really wish we hadn't."

I quickly opened the file up to the bookmarked page and realized what he was talking about. I wanted to grab the echidna's lighter and burn all the pictures immediately; I couldn't stand to see my friend like this. I looked to my right and assumed Espio had similar thoughts, judging by the look of horror on his face.

"Is he still there? Did you move him?" Espio briskly asked without taking a breath. I put my right hand on his shoulder in order to keep him calm. He usually didn't need help in doing that, but then again he had never seen one of his best friends cut up into pieces.

"Easy there, buddy." Knuckles could sense the anxiety in Espio's voice as well. "They wanted to clean it up, but I convinced them to keep the body there. I knew you'd want to check out the scene. Plus, with you guys, there's always a good chance you'll see something we missed. There's a reason you guys are the best detective agency around, after all."

I appreciated the flattery by Knuckles, but this really wasn't the time for it. I looked over at Espio, and he nodded back. Without any more words being said, we got up and started gathering our usual attire for when we were on the job. Knuckles flung on his jacket, grabbed his pack of smokes and lighter from under the desk, and headed out into the rainy night.

That was the situation Espio and I found ourselves in as we headed out back to climb into the car. Someone had murdered our best friend; someone was going to pay. And nothing was gonna keep us from making sure they did.

**To be continued...**

**So that was the first chapter; I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Ideas for this story are constantly flying around my head, so I'm probably gonna make this my main fanfic to work on. Later chapters will definitely be more eventful; this one was meant to introduce the basis for the plot and to give you a background for the setting. Please R&R (heavy emphasis on the second one) because reading comments makes me churn these out quicker.**


	2. Chaotix on the Case

Chapter 2 Chaotix on the Case

**. . . Espio . . .**

So far, the ride had been fairly silent. The most noise being made was the sputtering motor of Vector's precious Plymouth Gran Fury. I watched as Vector stuck close behind Knuckles so he wouldn't lose him. In case we got separated though, he told us the body was in an alley off of West Mortar Street, a couple buildings down from the Moonshine Night Club.

"Pretty awful weather, huh?" It was the first thing either of us had said since we got in the car. Vector doesn't do too well with silence in the car; he feels like some noise, whether it be conversation or background music, needs to be made. I appreciated the fact he didn't try breaking the silence with his heavy metal music; it just wasn't the right time for that. So he resorted to his tactic of starting conversation by making a common observation.

"Should come as no surprise," I responded, watching as the rain pelted the window on my side. "It's been like this all week." I crossed my arms and turned my head towards the front of the car, watching as Vector carefully followed Knuckles through the winding roads.

"I don't usually mind it too much; only when I have to drive through it." He was being really persistent. Was he trying to keep my mind off Charmy until we got there? I didn't exactly see the point in it, if that was his goal. Charmy was dead; that was the reality we had to live with. It was futile to try and hide from that fact; no amount of sugarcoating or denial could change what already happened.

"You can stop, Vector," I said, putting an end to his meaningless banter. "I know what you're trying to do, and I appreciate the gesture. But we have to face this case head-on. We can't change the fact that our best friend is dead. What we can do is catch the one who's responsible and make him pay." I pounded my fist into my other hand to emphasize the end of my statement. Vector gave me a curious glance before returning his eyes to the road.

"I know, buddy," he said, sounding like he was sorry for trying to avoid the truth. "I want to find the criminal as quickly as we can, but we both need to have clear heads on this one." We came to a red light, and he took the opportunity to look at me square in the eyes. "I have a gut feeling that we're gonna need our top-notch detective skills to solve this case. We can't let our feelings cloud our judgment, or keep us from doing our job to the best of our abilities."

I stared at him without saying a word, listening as the rain intensified and the drops hitting the windshield got bigger. "Green light," I said, forcing him to return his attention to the wheel of the car. Now I understood why he was avoiding the subject; he was trying to keep me under control mentally. He didn't want my thoughts to be consumed by anger and revenge. He would know all about that, having experienced those feelings on the night Vanilla was murdered. I'll be the first to admit Vector was the best among us at keeping his emotions in check, but that night I saw him lose it for the first time. He swore to himself to never let that happen again. So maybe it was wrong to say he was avoiding the subject for my benefit; I think he was actually doing it for his own. I personally preferred to accept and embrace these kinds of incidents rather than try to block them out.

I lunged forward a tad bit when Vector abruptly slammed on the breaks. Through the dense rain hitting the windshield, I could see Knuckles climbing out of the car and signaling to us that this was the place. Vector turned off the ignition and took a deep breath; I knew what he was thinking. As horrific as the pictures were that Knuckles showed us back at the office, seeing Charmy's mangled body in person was going to be much worse.

"You ready to go?" asked Vector, grabbing his hat from the back seat. I looked back at him and gave him a subtle nod. "Alright then, let's do this."

**. . . Vector . . .**

Espio and I quickly followed Knuckles into the alley we had seen him enter. It was still raining hard, but it appeared the police had set up a tarp over the body to keep the crime scene mostly untouched. We found Knuckles talking to a group of policemen and making gestures in our direction. No doubt he was explaining that we'd be taking a close look at the body and the surrounding crime scene, and would also be doing some questioning. I was less than thrilled to see Fang was here with him, who was currently making his way over to greet us.

"Been a while, boys!" he said with gusto as he vigorously shook our hands. "Was wonderin' when I'd get to see the great detectives again. Sorry it had to be on account of such circumstances." He took off his hat and placed it over his heart for added effect. As dirty as he was, you had to admit he was a good actor. That was just another reason to be careful when around him; he could talk you into believing anything.

"Can we see the body now?" asked Espio, getting straight to the point. I glared at him to suggest he should be a little more courteous, but Fang just chuckled while putting his hat back on.

"Ah, Espio, eager as always to get to work on the case." He turned his head towards the echidna and let out a loud whistle. Upon receiving a thumbs-up gesture from his partner, he turned his attention back to us with a twisted smile on his face. "Looks like everything's clear."

We hung back a few paces behind the weasel as we made our way down the alley, which was lit from all the lights set up by the policemen. "He sure seems happy given the current situation," Espio murmured to me in order to keep Fang from hearing him.

"Easy, buddy. Remember, don't make any assumptions or deductions until after seeing all the evidence." He nodded as we approached the crime scene and greeted Knuckles for the second time this evening.

"Good to see you guys made it here in one piece," he said, trying to keep the mood light for just a few more minutes. "Gotta be careful when it's raining like that." I think he saw in our eyes that we just wanted to get to work, and he immediately kneeled down next to a sheet that lay over our friend. We both breathed an air of anxiety as he pulled the sheet off.

Just as I had done with the photos, I quickly averted my eyes after catching a glimpse of the horrific sight. Just when I thought this city couldn't get more messed up, someone goes and does that to an innocent kid. I was happy to see someone (most likely Knuckles) had already done the duty of closing his eyes.

"Are all the, uh, body parts accounted for?" It disgusted me to have to ask such a grotesque question, but it was important to clarify that the whole body was still here.

"We believe so," the echidna replied, not sounding completely sure. "Forensics team was finishing up just as you arrived. As cut up and mangled as the body is, we believe it's all right here."

"When was the body found?" asked Espio. He was crouched near the body and closely inspecting the damage. He was trying to act tough, but I could see that he was as repulsed by the image as I was.

"Five till ten," answered Fang promptly.

I looked down at my watch. It was currently half past eleven, and Knuckles had arrived at the office at about quarter till, which meant there was a fifty minute gap that called for explanation. "You the one who found him?" I asked, directing my attention towards Fang.

"Yes."

"And you immediately contacted the station, or what?"

"I scanned the alley to see if there was anyone or anything lying around. After a quick survey I called Knuckles and told him to get over here cause I found the bee who'd been missing for a day."

I nodded my head and looked over at Knuckles to see if their stories matched. "That true?" I asked, not wanting it to sound like I didn't believe Fang.

"Yeah, I'd say it was about five after when I got the call from him. I brought a few officers with me to check out the situation and see if it was really Charmy. As soon as it was clear we had found him and that he was dead, we called the forensics team over. It was about 10:30 by that time, which was when I made my way over to your place."

"What were you doing in this alley?" asked Espio abruptly, glaring at Fang suspiciously. "It was dark by the time you found him, and we're pretty deep into the alley right now. You wouldn't spot him unless you were wandering around here."

I tried to give Espio a sign to cool it on the suspicion towards Fang, though I admit he did bring up a good point. However, we didn't have much to go off of yet, and Espio's accusations seemed to be stemming from the weasel's shady background rather than actual evidence. It'd be a bad idea to make enemies with the police in a case where we needed all the help we could get.

Fang looked taken aback by my partner's remarks, but he quickly recovered and coolly answered the chameleon. "I was over at the nearby night club; it is my night off after all. One of the dancers said she heard a strange noise from outside, so I thought I'd check it out. I found the kid just like how he is now with no one else in sight."

I looked over at Espio and he nodded back at me. The weasel's explanation seemed to check out; on close inspection of his face I could see he'd done a crude job of wiping off the lipstick from the girls at the club. It was time to move on and find out more about the actual murder.

"Do we have a murder weapon?" I asked, realizing no one had mentioned anything about one. The echidna responsively tossed me a plastic bag with an unusual looking weapon inside. It was a triangular piece of metal that resembled a large piece of shrapnel more than a murder weapon.

"This killed Charmy?" questioned Espio as he took the bag from me to examine the weapon. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He may have been just a kid, but he was by no means defenseless. I couldn't see someone overpowering Charmy with the equivalent of a butcher knife.

It seemed the other two were also on the same train of thought. "Maybe he got jumped," suggested Fang. "It don't take much to overpower someone when you catch 'em off guard."

"Any fingerprints?" asked Espio regarding the weapon. Fang snarled at the fact that his comment was ignored.

"Nope; it was wiped clean," answered Knuckles.

I let out a grunt of frustration, something I didn't like to show when on the job. Several questions were swimming in my head, and none of the evidence seemed to add up to anything. What motive did anyone have for killing such an innocent child? Why did the murderer leave the weapon here if they had the time to wipe it clean? More importantly, why the hell was Charmy in this alley in the first place? He was smart enough to stay away from places like this, so what on earth was he doing here?

"Wait a minute," said Knuckles, snapping me out of my thoughts. He hastily snatched the bag back from Espio, gazing at it with a strange mix of wonderment and frustration. "I can't believe I didn't recognize it earlier. I've seen this before; we all have."

I was happy to see I wasn't the only one who had no idea what the echidna was talking about. I tried to jog through my memory as fast as I could, but nothing significant came up. "Mind filling us in, partner?" said Fang, who was as stumped as Espio and me.

"Come on, guys," Knuckles said, clearly disappointed none of us saw the connection he did. "You really mean to tell me this _spine_ doesn't remind you all of a certain metal hedgehog?"

If I were drinking a beer at that moment, it would've been all over Knuckles's face. All of us stared wide-eyed, first at the echidna, then at the weapon. "You think this is one of Metal Sonic's spines?" I asked.

"I'd say there's a strong possibility."

"If Charmy put up a fight," said Espio, trying to piece a scene together. "He could have torn off one of Metal Sonic's spines."

"That's assuming that Metal Sonic was indeed the murderer," chimed in Fang. He was right in reminding us that we shouldn't be too eager in declaring Metal Sonic as the murderer. But it was finally a lead we could go build off of.

"Plus, look at the base of it," I said, taking the bag back from Knuckles. "It's completely smooth; no tear, no break, no nothing. Seems odd that in a dire struggle for his life Charmy would cleanly rip off a part of Metal's body."

"And I thought Metal Sonic was destroyed," remarked Fang. We all nodded our heads at this one, remembering his defeat at the hands of the hedgehog he was modeled after.

"Doesn't mean Eggman couldn't have rebuilt him." Espio seemed to be firmly behind the idea that Metal Sonic was the murderer. I wondered if the case was messing with his judgment; he knew there wasn't nearly enough evidence to make a deduction yet. He was on the right track, though, in terms of where our investigation should be headed. If there was any possibility that Metal Sonic was involved in the death of our friend, Eggman would be the man to go see.

"Does he still run that bar on Marble Street?" I asked, looking at Fang and Knuckles for an answer.

"Last time I checked," answered the echidna. "It'd be a good idea to pay him a visit. I don't know if he's involved, but hopefully he'll provide us with some answers to help clear up this case."

I nodded to Espio and we both made our way back to the car. There was clearly nothing more to gain from the crime scene; now we had to go out and get the information. "You coming with?" I asked, turning back to Knuckles. I wasn't surprised when he shook his head. He had a job to get back to; he'd help us as much as he could, but he couldn't afford to focus all his attention on one crime. After all, the city was full of them.

**To be continued...**

**Whoo, finally got chapter 2 out, and I'll admit, it's got a lot more dialogue in it than I first envisioned. I felt like I rushed completing this chapter a little, so I apologize for any typos; if you see any, please let me know so I can fix them. I'm rotating between this and another Sonic story I'm working on, so it might be a little longer between chapters. Please R&R!**


	3. The Doctor and the Thief

**Well, it's finally here: Chapter 3. Due to a mix of school, laziness, and severe writer's block, it's been forever since I've submitted anything on this account. But I finally finished this one and hopefully I've got my writing mojo back so I can keep churning them out.**

Chapter 3 The Doctor and the Thief

**. . . Knuckles . . .**

"So are we done here?" my partner asked impatiently as I continued to survey the crime scene.

Something was wrong; I didn't have any proof or any reason to think so, but I had a nagging feeling that we weren't seeing the whole picture. It was a feeling I had felt many times before, so this wasn't anything unusual. Fang was the kind of guy who was content if all the facts seemed to fit; I was just the opposite. He always yelled at me for looking too deep into a case, instead of accepting the information I had in front of me. I think it started with the partner I had before Fang, who was an ex-detective. He would always go beyond the physical evidence in order to discover the truth. Clearly his methods were contagious.

"Yeah, it looks like there's nothing left to be found here," I declared, moving back to the dead body of Charmy. It really was a shame to see someone so young and innocent have his life taken. I now felt bad for never knowing the kid that well. I left the Chaotix to become a cop before he joined, and Espio and Vector were usually the ones I talked to whenever I swung by the place. He was always laughing and finding entertainment in simple things like the spinning chair. It was as if the cruel city around him didn't exist, and it was all a fun detective game to him. Maybe that was how I needed to view it; maybe then things wouldn't seem so bad.

"We should probably take him over to the forensics team," said Fang, joining me next to the body. He gave a disgusted look as he prepared to transport the mangled corpse. "They've been waitin' a while for us to finish up."

I nodded in agreement and kneeled down to pick up the body. A large tray had been slid under his body in order to keep all the parts together while being carried. I noticed his left arm was lying out of the tray, so I started placing it back inside the edge. As I was setting his arm back down, I spotted a tiny pink object floating in the pool of blood.

"Find something?" asked Fang, noticing how transfixed I was by my discovery.

It didn't take me long to decipher what the object was or who it belonged to. It also didn't take me long to realize that trying to interrogate her with an official police squad wouldn't get us anywhere. She knew how to talk her way out of trouble; besides treasure hunting, it was probably what she was best at.

I looked up at Fang, knowing what I should do was the opposite of what I planned to do. "Nah," I said, shaking my head from side to side. "Just some garbage that the kid landed on. The ground's littered with this crap." I pocketed the pink nail in my overcoat and proceeded to carry Charmy over to the forensics van.

"Headin' back to the station?" Fang asked as he climbed into his car. It was clear he didn't intend on hanging around the rank alley any longer.

"In a little bit," I responded as I turned to head toward the opposite side. "Just gonna do some last minute browsing; make sure we didn't miss anything." It seemed like a pretty poor excuse, but it was the best I could come up with. However, Fang seemed to accept it without question as he nodded and started his car.

"Don't lose too much sleep over this, ya hear?" he shouted over the static of his radio. "Leave the detective work to your friends; they're on the case." I put on a slight smile as I watched him drive away. No, this bit of investigating I had to do alone. No police, no Fang, no Chaotix.

I made my way to the front entrance of the Moonshine Night Club, wondering if I'd be as successful in talking to her as I thought I'd be. It'd been over a year since we last talked, and I imagine our final conversation didn't leave her yearning to see me ever again. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and it wasn't just for the sake of Charmy. I needed to know if she really was involved.

Before realizing it, I found myself at the door to the club. I could hear the bass of the club music pounding, matching the fast tempo of my heartbeat. I had every reason to be nervous; there was no telling how she'd react to seeing my face. There was even the possibility of violence erupting, depending on what kind of mood she was in.

I roughly shook my head, clearing my mind of those thoughts. What happened in the past didn't matter right now. I needed answers and I intended to get them. I breathed a heavy sigh of anxiety before pushing the door open.

The bright, flashing lights blinded me for a split second; they were always the most nauseating part of the night club experience. Except for a new floor and a couple renovations here and there, the place seemed mostly unchanged since I had last been here. There was a flood of people swarming the dance floor, which meant I'd have to fight my way through in addition to finding her.

"Excuse me," I said, tapping the closest shoulder to me. It happened to belong to a human girl, who was only wearing enough to cover what needed to be covered. She looked to be in her early twenties, and she also looked wasted.

"Huh?" she remarked, turning around and looking me up and down. It reminded me that I was still wearing my cop uniform, which instantly made me stick out. "Oh, have I been a bad girl?" she said in a seductive manner. "Have you come to punish me?"

I chuckled at my luck; she thought I was playing dress-up. She leaned towards me and started to stroke my chin before I grabbed her by the wrist. I made sure not to be rough, but the grab was forceful enough to let her know I was being serious. "Actually, I'm looking for someone." This statement was met with an instant scowl; club girls didn't like hearing you were looking for someone else. I was afraid this meant she'd be reluctant to help me. "Do you know where in this dump I can find a dancer named Rouge?"

She glared at me for a few seconds, clearly put off by the fact I wasn't interested in her. "Over there," she said, pointing a finger towards the far corner of the club. "Get in line, though; she's always got a mass of guys waiting on her. You're much better off with someone like me."

Damn, this bitch was persistent. "I'll see what I can do about the line," I said, heading off before she had a chance to retort.

The cop uniform was actually helping me make my way through the crowd. People weren't sure whether it was real or a disguise, but they were suspicious enough to slightly back away when I passed by. I sensed I was getting many unkind glares from every guy I walked by, but they all seemed somewhat intimidated by the uniform. I also made sure to flash my knuckles, letting everyone know that if they planned on getting in a fight, they weren't gonna win.

I made it to the dancer table without too much trouble, but the sight before me was a reminder that the hard part was still to come. She was on the side opposite me currently showing off her flexibility; it drove all the guys wild. I must've been the only one around the table not making a sound. It's not that I didn't share their thoughts; she was as good-looking as ever, if not better. Staying in great shape had clearly not been a problem for her, for it appeared she was wearing her usual outfit: a black one-piece with a pink, heart-shaped bra, which matched with her pink and white boots.

I shook my head aggressively in an attempt to snap out of my ogling. I came here to get information, not rekindle broken relationships. So why was it I couldn't get rid of this burning feeling, this anger that stemmed from these scumbags howling at her? I wanted to jump on the table and snatch her off, taking her away from their lecherous eyes. I growled at myself once more, being careful not to make a scene. Maybe it was foolish of me to think I could handle this situation by myself. I found myself turning around and slowly starting to head back until…

"Hey, you," I heard from behind me. Before I could react to the familiar voice, I felt a pair of legs straddle my shoulders. Pink and white boots; I had a feeling this might not end well.

"Where do you think you're going?" she said, spinning me around so that I was facing into her legs. I lifted my hat slightly and looked up; I felt like the glare she gave me was piercing through my brain. I could feel sweat starting to trickle down the back of my neck. She had the ability and all the reason in the world to have me thrown out at once. She seemed to be thinking that too, but then her glare transformed into something even more wicked: a seductive smile.

"Go find someone else boys!" she shouted amidst the headache-inducing music. "This naughty officer and I are gonna spend some quality time in the back room."

**. . . Espio . . .**

"Turn right here," I said, pointing to the sign that read "Marble Street." I held on to the car door as Vector made a wide, sweeping turn. Neither of us had ever been to The Laughing Egg (I don't know why he insisted on labeling everything with "egg") on account of the fact it was owned and operated by Eggman. Truth be told, he wasn't much of an evil mastermind anymore. Few years ago he called it quits on the Eggman Empire business and settled down in Station Square. Rumor had it his pub was a very popular place, but even with evil intentions seemingly no longer inside him, Vector and I usually kept our distance from it.

"You ever been by the place?" I asked, worried that we might drive right by it.

"No, I'm not normally in this part of town." We both scanned the sides of the street skeptically. Night time was not the best time to be driving somewhere you'd never been before. "But if I know Eggman, it'll probably have a giant picture of his face on the front. You know, like the symbol he puts on all his inventions."

We sat in silence for the next few minutes while trying to locate the bar. The street went on for quite a while, so there was a good chance it was located at the far end of it. "Think he'll be willing to help us?" I asked, recalling some of our past dealings with the doctor.

"What he's willing to do may not be that important," he responded, glancing at the evidence bag sitting in my lap. "If that metal piece is what we think it is, then that makes him a top suspect. He'll have to help us if he wants to prove his innocence."

I sat there quietly, acknowledging Vector's words. I didn't like the fact that his scenario was deeming the doctor innocent. It might have just been an example, but I knew it reflected his true thoughts. Then again, I guess I wasn't completely sold on the idea of Eggman as the culprit, either. I don't know why, but it just didn't seem to fit. However, that didn't mean he was any less of a suspect in my mind. I think that was the difference between Vector and me; he looked at suspects as innocent until proven guilty, while I saw it the other way around. Either way, we were hoping to gain valuable information from this visit.

No one had to say anything when we eventually arrived at the pub; like Vector had predicted, it had a giant egg-shaped head made out of neon lights. For a guy who used to be the greatest criminal mind on the planet, he sure didn't feel a need to make the place inconspicuous. Vector parked down a side road and I stuffed the evidence bag in my back pocket before getting out of the car. Before he could say anything, I had already started toward the entrance side with a vigorous pace.

"Espio, wait!" came the shout from my partner. I was so eager to get into the pub that I hadn't even noticed how far behind he was; he was just closing his door. I stopped completely and turned slowly; I wasn't sure if he could see my look of impatience.

"I really don't think we need to discuss a game plan for this," I said coldly while waiting for him to catch up. "We walk in, take a seat at the bar, put the evidence on the table and get to the questioning. I see no reason to overcomplicate this."

Vector finally caught up by the time I finished my sentence, trying to get his words out through his breathing. "That's fine," he said, catching his breath. He stood up straight and patted me on the shoulder. "That's all I was gonna say; just making sure you weren't doing anything rash-"

"What, you think I was gonna shoot him? Go in guns blazing like a maniac?" I cringed; I didn't mean for those words to come out so harsh. It's not like I wasn't offended, I just didn't want him to think I was. I didn't like the fact that he felt the need to keep me in check. It was obvious he was worried about the mental effect of this case on me. Yes, I had an enormous amount of rage swelling from the death of my friend, but all that rage was under control. I didn't need Vector's help.

I looked up to see the hurt look on his face. It was most likely formed from a mix of me snapping at him and regretting what he said to me. There would be a time for this conversation to continue, but it certainly wasn't now. "Come on, let's go," I said roughly, returning my attention to the entrance; I didn't check to see if he was keeping up with me.

**. . . Vector . . .**

We walked into the pub, with Espio leading the way, as casually as possible. We entered slowly but surely, and tried not to give off the impression that we were looking for someone. It really was packed; Fang wasn't lying when he said it was the most popular joint in town. We gradually made our way to the bar, all the while observing our surroundings.

"Now this is a surprise!" came the grandiose voice of Eggman from the bar. He was wearing a red button-up vest over a white shirt, along with his usual set of black slacks. He flashed a grin as he excitedly slid several drinks down the bar to their respective buyers. He then turned his attention back to us. "The Chaotix paying a visit to my humble little pub. Can't say I've ever had the pleasure of entertaining you lads, so how bout we start with two on the house?"

I couldn't keep myself from chuckling. He was doing his best to make you forget you were standing in front of one of the most brilliant, but diabolical minds the world has ever known. He really could make you believe he was just a simple bartender, but Espio and I knew better. I took off my hat as a sign of greeting, and he quickly cleared up two spots on the right end for us.

"It's been a while, Doc," I said, trying to sound inviting but serious. I placed my hat on the bar as Espio roughly took a seat. I knew he wasn't in the mood for small talk, but I felt working into the issue was the best way to get his cooperation.

"It wouldn't have to be if you guys came down here every once in a while." He didn't sound very upset, though. "But I guess that's too much for me to ask from you guys. I realize my past has left a large gap of doubt and mistrust amongst you and your friends that's not easily filled."

"Funny you mention that, Doctor," said Espio, who had clearly run out of patience. Though I give him credit for keeping the tone casual to avoid alerting others in the vicinity to the matter at hand. "Cause we're here to find out just how buried your past really is."

I let out a sigh as Eggman stiffened up. I was hoping to set a more friendly tone before diving into business, but we had always preferred working at different paces.

"Ah, so I see you two haven't come down here to merely shoot the breeze," he said wielding his trademark smile. "Can't say I'm surprised. When I heard your comrade had gone missing, I assumed it was only a matter of time until I received a visit from the other two members of the Chaotix Detective Agency."

Now I was the one who had to keep myself from reacting irrationally, but Espio beat me to it. "You know about Charmy? Knuckles said he was keeping it under wraps from the press." His brain was visibly fighting his emotions; it looked like unseen forces were keeping him from jumping over the bar.

Eggman took a couple steps back from the bar while still trying to keep a face that didn't reek of being intimidated. "Now now, let's not jump to any conclusions boys." He reached under the bar and poked around with his right hand. My guess was he was searching for a blaster in case one of us got carried away.

"If you don't want us to assume you had a part in it," I said, attempting to keep my voice calm. "Then I suggest you start explaining."

"It's really not any kind of big news," he said, knowing we were hoping for a big lead. "It's just that your former teammate already did some snooping around here. I think all those times tricking him have left a bad taste in his mouth. It's no wonder I was the first person he suspected."

It was about as anticlimactic as you could ask for. No lead, no hint, nothing even close to a clue. Just Knuckles following instinct and immediately suspecting the person he hated most.

"That doesn't take you off the hook, though," said Espio, bringing out the evidence bag from his back pocket. "Knuckles talked to you after Charmy had gone missing, but we've found something that I'm sure you'll recognize."

I did a quick scan of the room and was glad to see our little scene hadn't yet attracted anyone else's attention. I looked back to see Eggman had a genuine look of shock on his face.

"Where did you get that?" he growled in a menacing tone.

"Thought you'd find it familiar," said Espio, smiling at the thought of finally getting some answers. "It was found at the crime scene with our friend. We thought it was a pretty strange murder weapon at first, but Knuckles eventually identified it as a piece of Metal Sonic."

I continued to stare at Eggman the whole time, looking for a reaction. He picked up the piece and started to scan it heavily, checking every inch of the metal. "Funny thing is," I chimed in, remembering a fact Fang brought up earlier, "we thought Metal Sonic was destroyed in his last fight with our real blue friend. Any chance you've been going back to tinkering with the inventions."

He didn't turn his head in my direction to acknowledge me, but simply laid the piece back down on the bar. Espio and I both looked up at the doctor, anxiously waiting for a response.

"I told you, that life is behind me now." His tone had a sound of regret in it, like when a man recalls the time when he used to be a crack addict. "However, I had started building another Metal Sonic before retiring, but I never finished. So this wasn't ripped off Metal Sonic, but was rather a piece that was yet to be put on."

Espio and I looked at each other, taking in the story. If the doctor was to be believed, it would explain why the spine was in perfect condition; it was simply a lone part that had not yet been added to the machine. "That still doesn't explain why it was found at the crime scene," said Espio, refusing to back down.

"I'm unsure of that myself. The only way anyone could have gotten hold of this is if they broke in to my old base out by the Mystic Ruins."

"Which once again makes you look like the prime suspect."

Espio really was something else. When he got like this, it was near impossible to change his mind. He had zeroed in on Eggman as the target, and he wasn't letting off the gas until he saw some hardcore evidence against him. We both watched as Eggman quickly scribbled on a napkin and handed it to us.

"Clearly my words aren't enough," he said while chuckling at Espio's persistence. "I'd love to help, boys, I really would. But as you can see, I have a business to run here. The most I can do is give you that pass code to my old base. With any luck, whoever's behind this has left some tracks for you two to follow. And if you have any more questions," he took this chance to flash his signature grin at us, "you know where to find me."

**Yeah, I know; still not a lot of action. I'm trying to present all the angles of the story (characters, subplots) before really getting into it. You can probably suspect things to heat up when Vector and Espio head to the base, though I haven't yet decided if that'll work its way into the next chapter. I should also point out that over half of this chapter (all of Knuckles and Vector) was written a year ago before my huge break. So if it seems like the style or pace or something suddenly shifts when it gets to Espio's part, now you know why. Please R&R, heavy on the second R. Constructive feedback always helps me get through these faster.**


	4. Old Flames

**Author's Note: Okay, so again this chapter took way longer to complete than I intended. Due to writing bits of it here and there over the course of a few months, you may find sudden changes in pacing or style; I apologize. **

Chapter 4 Old Flames

**. . . Knuckles . . .**

My mind was racing as I was brusquely pulled through the crowd of people. I could see the jealous looks on all the male faces; I could tell they'd give anything to be heading to the back room with Rouge. However, if they had any idea of our past and the reception I was likely to receive, that envy would turn to pity in a split second. Every step that I was dragged closer to our destination, I regretted coming here in the first place. But I remembered my mission; getting answers would be worth the verbal onslaught.

I kept looking back at her to see if she was trying to say anything; amidst this music it'd be impossible to tell. We finally reached the back room and I felt her grip loosen as she felt herself up and down with both hands trying to find the key. I swear she hid everything in her clothing. Even when she wore jackets or coats over her regular clothes, she'd prefer to stuff keys and money in her bra or boots. A slight smile escaped onto my face as I recalled one time when she hid the key to my apartment in her bra, so to get it-

Once again I had to shake my head vigorously. Why wouldn't these stupid thoughts just stay out of my head? Was it just weird for me to lay eyes on her for the first time in a year?

"You alright, there?" said Rouge, clearly having noticed my head shaking.

"I'm fine." I tried my best to growl back the words in an intimidating tone. I think I was doing it more to convince myself than to convince her. I had to be on my game if I was to leave here with any useful information. "We ever gonna go into the damn room?"

She gave me an unamused expression I was very familiar with. "Well aren't you as charming as ever? Can't seem to find the damn key." She felt around her bra, which clearly didn't contain the key. She ran her hands back down her body, her fingers feeling around for the small metal object that should have been protruding somewhere under her outfit.

"Try the tip of the boot." I turned my head in order to avoid eye contact with her. Just cause I was trying to avoid bringing up our past didn't mean I had forgotten it. And if it meant helping us escape this wretched music, I was more than willing to lend assistance.

I heard the metal "clink" of the key as it fell out of her boot onto the floor. There it was again: that unamused expression she gave me before inserting the key and leading me into the room. As I passed by her, she took her chance to give me a hard push through the door. Again, nothing I wasn't expecting. There was plenty of reason for all the yelling sure to come, and even a little physical confrontation. However, if she started to get too violent, I'd have no choice but to defend myself. I was hoping she'd be smart and rational enough to avoid that.

The back room was about as glamorous as it sounded. Just a small dressing room with a couple chairs, a mirror, and a very dim light. "So is this your personal dressing room, or-"

I had to go completely to the ground to avoid the boot she had previously been holding. "I've gotta hand it to you, Knucklehead, this ain't the dumbest thing you've done around me, but it's up there."

And so it began. I looked around the room and noticed a couple of stools. "Maybe we should sit down."

"Cut the pleasantries crap! You've been gone a whole year and I'm supposed to believe you just randomly decided to drop in and say hello. I know you're here on business, so you might as well get to it. That's all you ever cared about anyway, isn't it?"

I let out a big sigh as I looked up at her to see the piercing glare. That same glare I saw when I walked out of that apartment building over a year ago. "Look," I tried to sound as calm and collected as possible. I didn't want to come off as belittling because I knew that would only make matters worse. "I'm not thrilled about this situation either."

"Oh, that's a good start," she snorted, purposely taking my words by the most negative meaning.

I was starting to get riled up. It seemed evident that her only goal while I was here was to twist every sentence into a statement against her. "Hey, I'm not here to try to rekindle a dead relationship, okay? Though I know how much you would want that."

"You egotistical prick. You think I'd take you back after a year of no communication just because you found the balls to mosey your way into my club. Don't worry; I know you're not here to talk about us. It's about the job first; it always has been."

"And that's how it should be. I've witnessed this city in its glory days, and I still believe it can return to that once-beautiful form. You've seen it too: how wonderful and peaceful this city can be. I'd give anything to see it like that again."

"And you went out and proved it, didn't you?" Clearly something in the last statement had struck a nerve as she stomped closer to me until she was only a foot away. "You threw away what we had so that you could pretend to be the city's hero. Did you think the city was gonna change in a day? Did you think devoting more time to your work would solve all of Station Square's problems?"

"I never expected it to happen instantly!" I was now glad of the surrounding environment; if it wasn't for the pounding music outside, our escalating voices might have attracted unwanted attention. "I knew it wasn't going to be easy and so did you. Nothing else mattered but-"

There it was: the slap that had become inevitable by this point in the conversation. "It always astounded me how thick-headed you could be; I'm just glad I finally got to slap you for it." I was admittedly frightened by how angry she looked (and I thought I looked bad when mad). She was trembling from fury and clearly trying to hold back tears. "Nothing else mattered? I thought I mattered."

I let another big sigh escape my mouth as I rubbed the sore spot on my left cheek. I had to put a stop to this. There were much more important matters at hand, and here I was trying to make a former girlfriend understand why I left her. "I knew coming here was a stupid idea," I grunted, just barely loud enough for her to catch it.

"Yeah, it was." She turned and walked away in an attempt to hide her tears, but I could spot the small water drops hit the floor.

"But I am here." I got out of my chair and reached into my pocket where I had stored the item found at the crime scene. "So I might as well do what I came here to do."

She let out a slight sniffle and wiped her eyes, again not trying to show signs of weakness to me. She hated showing weakness; I think she got that from hanging around me for so long. Or maybe she already had it, and it was just one of those things we had in common. It had been much too long for me to remember. With new shit about people dying, buildings crumbling, and everything going to hell coming into my office every day, it was hard to retain any information that didn't concern my job.

"Can I see your hand?" I had a feeling this question wouldn't go over well, as she gave me a disgusted look in return. "Look, it's nothing funny; it's just police work. Can I please see your hand?"

She furiously swiped at her own face in an attempt to remove the new tears. I was still unsure what to think of the waterworks. It truly did pain me to see her hurt like this, but at the same time it gave me a sign that somewhere inside her she still cared. It was better than being received by a cold, heartless shell. She looked at me, as I looked back at her with a face that was trying to convey, "I know there's been a lot of shit between us, but I need you to cooperate with me right now."

I was elated to see her slowly and reluctantly reach out her right hand, palm up. I lightly grabbed it, bracing for her to suddenly change her mind and pull it back. However, she stayed calm (albeit not making eye contact with me) as I turned it over to the back. My attention turned to her fingers; each of them covered with a long, hot-pink nail.

"Can I see your other hand, please?" I watched as she quickly withdrew her hand as soon as I loosened my grip on it. As I figured she would, she returned my request with a questioning glance. "Please, Rouge, the sooner you cooperate, the sooner I can get out of here." My mind lingered on the words that I had just let escape my lips. Yes, get out of here. Bury these painful memories in the past where they belonged and get back to the case of the murdered bee. I looked up at her; she still refused to look me in the eye. "After all, that's what you want… Right?"

She chose that moment to finally place her gaze upon mine; this time I was the one who had to turn away. In that gaze I saw and felt all the sorrow that had been built up over the year we had been apart. Damn it all: this city, this wretched club, and myself most of all for choosing to come back to the one I had left behind. "Please, Rouge," I said, still averting my gaze. "I'm just trying to do my job. Give me your left hand, and I can get back to work, and we can pretend this never happened."

She softly nodded her head in agreement; sorrow had taken over, and she wanted nothing more than to see the source of it leave the vicinity. She gently placed her left hand palm up into my hands. Like the previous hand, I immediately flipped it over. Starting with the thumb, and slowly glanced over all her finger nails. Like the other hand, each finger was covered with a long, hot-pink nail. However, as I got to the pinky finger, it was evident that there was something off about it. The color didn't quite match, and the paint ran onto her skin.

"Freshly painted nail?" I asked, removing the item from my jacket without her noticing.

"I was missing one, so I had to make a quick fix before I went on," she said very matter-of-factly. "Is there something wrong?"

I hung my head and let a mix of emotions overtake my thoughts. I was hoping I would be wrong, and she would have nothing to do with this. But that didn't seem to be the case anymore. I slowly took the evidence bag from behind my back and revealed it to her: the last hot-pink nail she was missing.

"My nail?" she cried, immediately reaching for the bag. I pulled back, however, since it was now evidence I needed to keep with me. "How did you get that?"

"I found it under the murdered body of Charmy Bee." I scanned her face looking for any sign of recognition or surprise; anything that would tip off whether she already knew about the murder. "I was hoping you could tell me how it got there."

She leaned back against a table behind her and stared at the ground. I didn't like the gesture cause I felt like it signaled she was just trying to fabricate a story in her head. "It was about ten minutes before my shift started," she uttered, after meditating on an answer. "I heard sounds from down the street, and I decided to check it out. When I got there I saw the kid's mangled body lying on the ground. I admit to being a little curious; I was just checking to see if it really was Charmy. When I heard sirens, I panicked cause I was afraid the police would think I was involved. In the process, I guess one of my nails fell off."

I sat there staring back at her, trying to keep my face from portraying what my mind was thinking. Here I was expecting some masterfully put together tale that left no room for second-guessing, and she gave me exactly the opposite. A little kid could have made up that story.

"That's it?" I asked, assuring myself there must be more than what I had been told.

"That's it," she confirmed, staring me down to clarify that she was sticking with this story.

"You heard sounds from the alley, you found the kid dead, and you left when you heard sirens."

"That's what I've told you," she confirmed once more.

I ran a hand across my head in frustration. There were so many potential holes in the story I didn't know where to begin. Maybe that was the point in her simple explanation. It's easy to pick apart a lie when there are one or two things that don't add up. However, if the whole tale is a convoluted mess, you don't know where to start. I was knocked out of my train of thought when one of the other dancers came running through the door, and the head-pounding music that I had all but forgotten about came rushing back. Wait a minute…

"You said you heard sounds coming from the alley where we found him. How on earth did you hear anything over this music?"

Her ears perked up a little bit, possibly not expecting me to attempt dissection of her story. "I wasn't in the building yet," she countered, keeping her composure. "I was sitting atop the building as I often do before work. And I'm sure you know I'm not lying about that fact."

Again with the memories; I groaned in frustration. She was right, though. There were many past incidents involving the two of us sitting on the roof of the club, looking down at the then-beautiful city around us. That location was a particular hot spot for us to partake in the shenanigans common to most young lovers. It started out occurring in infrequent spurts, but after a while it became routine for the two of us to hang out and chat before she started her shift.

"That can't be it," I proclaimed, still frustrated. "I know you know more about this."

I stood up and moved closer to her, but she stood her ground and sent my stare right back at me. "Look, Knucklehead, as reluctant as I am to help you, I know how much this case means to you. If I had meaningful information, I'd spill the beans. But I'm afraid this lead's a dead end for you."

Unfortunately, she was right. Whether she was telling the truth or not, I couldn't see Rouge the Bat being the key that got me closer to solving the mystery. I could only go off of what was being given to me, and right now I was being sold the fact that she had nothing to do with the murder, and was merely a spectator. I briskly walked past her and headed toward the door, annoyed that this whole painful reunion turned out to be futile.

"That's it?" she asked as I was opening the door. I guess she hadn't expected me to give in to her story that easily.

"That's it. For now," I added after a deliberated pause. "Until I find out more about this case, I'm gonna have to trust the evidence being handed to me. Your story checks out until proven false. As soon as I find anything that contradicts your story, you can expect me back here."

In response to this, I expected to hear something along the lines of, "Gee, I can't wait." But instead she let out a small sigh and merely stated, "Okay." My steps slowed as I made my way over the threshold trying to diagnose that parting word. Could there be a part of her that was actually hoping I'd find evidence that would bring me back here? Beneath all that rage and hatred that had been displayed, was there actually a part of her that was glad to see me walk through those club doors?

I turned sideways so that only my left side could be seen by her in the doorway. I had a feeling I was going to regret the actions to follow. "I'm sorry, Rouge."

The whole room seemed to fill up with that apology and drown out the music I had let in by opening the door. I waited for her to retort, but no sound came from her mouth. I think she sensed that there was more to come.

"I know I never said it before, and you probably started to think I didn't care anymore. But I am sorry… for everything. I never meant for things to happen like this. Hurting you was the last thing in the world I ever wanted to do. Yet no matter what I do, every decision I make seems to result in just that."

Frustration had been building up during the course of my monologue, and I felt the urge to lash out and punch the wall in front of me. "It's this damn city! I can't take it! No matter what I do, nothing seems to help. Every day the drug cartels grow in numbers. Every day buildings and even entire streets are being deserted. And every day people are getting killed left and right. And I can't do a damn thing about it. If it wasn't for this corrupted city-"

"No, Knuckles." I almost jumped when I heard Rouge say my name. She had been quiet for so long, I had actually forgotten about her in my verbal tirade. "The city around us may have changed, but that wasn't what went wrong between us. The day it ended, the day I made you make the choice between me and the force, I already knew which one you were going to pick. I could see it in your eyes: your obsession with saving the city had taken over. There was no room left for me in your heart. The echidna I met when trying to steal his emerald wouldn't have let a corrupt city, or anything for that matter, get in the way of what or who he cared about. Station Square did change you, but only because you let it."

Those last words from the bat echoed through my head like a tribal chant as I navigated the crowd of the Moonshine Night Club, making for the exit.

**To be continued...**

**This chapter didn't end up at all like I originally planned. It was supposed to be only half-Knuckles, and the other half would either be the Chaotix storyline or introducing Tails for the first time. However, once I started writing, I felt it'd be better to just cover the entire scene with Knuckles and Rouge in this chapter, and save the other two segments for the next chapter. Keep an eye on this one, cause I might come back and edit that very last bit of dialogue if I think of some better lines. Anyway, please read and respond, and let me know what you think so far. **


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